


Unanounced

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Cis Dean, Drinking, FTM Sam, M/M, Stanford Era, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 05:09:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3755602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He and Sammy didn’t really speak a whole lot. There were a few phone calls on the usual dates like birthdays and Christmas. A few drunk calls. Far as he could tell, Sammy seemed to be doing pretty well. Dean still wanted to check up on her. He tried to quash down the big brother feels that it was dangerous for a girl out there on her own. Cause Samantha could knock him on his back and pin him down under five minutes. If she tried. Girl was freakish tall and whipcord lean, all muscles. Least, the last time he saw her she was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unanounced

Dean was tossing a pack of lit matches into an open grave where it caught the gasoline and rushed up towards him in a bright burst of fire when he remembered what November second meant. He stayed to watch anyway. Make the sure the corpse was good and crispy by the time the flames went down, then filled the dirt back in and trudged back to the Impala alone under the moonlight.

How could he even forget this date until it was so late it was technically the next day.

Not like he had dad there with him to remind him.

He was in Ashland Oregon, just about six hours away from Sammy. Really, that wasn’t all that far.

Dean wondered how Sammy was doing. If she was getting on well in her classes. Making friends. Being normal. Jesus, she was already twenty one, she could actually legitimately go in to a bar and legally purchase alcohol.

There was a twinge of pain in his chest when Dean tallied up the months since he’d last seen his sister and realized it had been almost two years now. Dean had spent last November second drinking himself stupid on the East Coast in a shitty motel. Maybe he could just pop by.

He and Sammy didn’t really speak a whole lot. There were a few phone calls on the usual dates like birthdays and Christmas. A few drunk calls. Far as he could tell, Sammy seemed to be doing pretty well. Dean still wanted to check up on her. He tried to quash down the big brother feels that it was dangerous for a girl out there on her own. Cause Samantha could knock him on his back and pin him down under five minutes. If she tried. Girl was freakish tall and whipcord lean, all muscles. Least, the last time he saw her she was.

Yeah, Dean should check up on his sister.

-

Growing up taking care of his baby sister hadn’t been awkward in the slightest for Dean until he hit puberty. When he was just a little kid he didn’t think it was weird at all to wash his kid sister or help her get dressed. Fuck knows why Dad let them sleep in the same motel bed as long as he had. Soon as Dean started waking up with morning wood he was out of there. They got spare cots or rooms with couches or sometimes Dad just fucked off for the whole night and left the two of them with two beds.

Going through puberty with a young sister in cramped quarters was super awkward. Samantha didn’t take long to catch up though, she was ahead of Dean when she hit her first period at eleven. And surprise surprise Dad wasn’t really around to teach her jack shit so Dean, at fifteen, learned a hell of a lot more about the female anatomy than he thought he already knew because Cindy let him get to second base under the bleachers that one time.

It wasn’t really that weird at first. Sammy was flat and wiry and a cantankerous little shit. Dean got up to seventeen without anything being weird at all between them. Then Sammy started to grow, and grow, and grow. Instead of getting curvy and filling out she just pushed on up past Dean and Dad. Dean had to beat up a lot of assholes that dared to make fun of his bean pole of a sister.

Didn’t really matter what she looked like though. She was Dean’s little sister. She was always there by him, smelling like old spice cause they shared everything and she didn’t care about smelling like a guy. Wearing baggy flannel shirts and jeans cause they lived on hand me downs and goodwill. Blushing so pretty any time Dean mentioned the girl he was with one town back.

Dean was really fucking good at denial. He denied how fucked up their lives were. He denied how deep he loved. He denied how much he craved. He denied that the sight of his sister with a tiny motel towel falling off her lanky frame could make him pop a boner in a second flat. He denied that he liked wrestling with her and feeling the muscle and bone of her body pressed against him. Dean denied a lot.

Maybe he wasn’t as good at covering it up as he thought. Dean blamed himself a lot for her leaving. Even if she tried to say it was cause of Dad. Or cause she didn’t want to be part of this life.

Dean still needed her. God did he need her. Couldn’t stay away, like a moth to a flame. Sammy just shone so bright.

-

He didn’t call first. Just steered the Impala south and drove on in to Palo Alto He paid for a motel and found a liquor store and got shit faced and stared at his phone for a night. Then he did a little digging, found Sammy’s address, and decided to pop on by.

She was living in a shitty apartment off campus with broken glass littering the pitted asphalt parking lot and bright swaths of graffiti up the sides of the building. Dean swaggered down the hall until he came to her door and leaned against the frame with his best ‘I’m so not scared’ shit eating grin plastered on his face as he could. Maybe she wouldn’t be here right now. Who knew. Dean knocked on the door and listened to people rustling around in the other apartments and waited.

The door pulled open a crack, the safety chain still on, and Dean saw one wary hazel eye peering out at him.

“Heya Sammy, guess who was in town?”

Her voice came through startled and high. “Dean? What the fuck?”

“Aw come on now, that any way to treat your big brother?”

Dean stood there, awkward and silent for a beat.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“You - why didn’t you call first?”

“Did I need to?”

“I. Uh. Just. There are some things. You know. That I haven’t really told you.”

“Don’t tell me you’re shacked up with a guy in there Sammy.”

“No. No that’s not it.”

“Come on man, don’t be hiding like that. Winchesters aren’t cowards.”

That got a reaction at least. He heard Sammy huffing from behind the door as it was pushed close and the safety chain was taken off. The door swung open and Sammy was - well - what.

She’d always been a tom boy. No way around that. But her long brown hair was cut short, just curling over her ears. She was wearing a tshirt, but her chest - which was always pretty small - looked non existent. She didn’t really look like a girl, not that she was ever girly, and she kind of looked like a dude and it was weird.

“Man, where’d your tits go Sammy?”

Classy Dean.

Sammy crossed her arms over her chest and glared.

“It’s Sam.”

“What?”

“Don’t call me Sammy. It’s Sam.”

“Sam’s a guys name.”

“Yeah. Exactly.”

Dean stood stupefied in the hallway. Sammy - Sam - sighed and reached out to pull him into the apartment, door shut behind him. The kitchen and living room and bedroom were actually just one room apparently and Sammy walked over to flop onto the bed against the wall. There was a chair across from it Dean sat in. The furniture was ratty and probably pulled off the curb. The floor was chipped linoleum. The window opened up to a lovely view of an alley way.

Dean’s sister was sitting with her legs folded, picking at the torn hem of her jeans, eyes down cast.

“What are you doing here Dean?”

“I missed you. Sammy, what’s going on with you?”

“It’s Sam!”

“Sam, sorry. Jesus. So what the hell is all this about?”

“I’m trans.”

“Trans what now?”

“Transgender. I’m a guy okay. I mean. I don’t really have the money or the health insurance to actually do anything about it, but, I’m a guy Dean.”

“Nah I’m pretty sure you got a pussy.”

“Oh my god how ignorant are you. Aren’t you bi or something?”

Dean’s mouth opened to say something, and closed, and opened.

“Wait, what, how do you know that?”

“I’m not stupid. God are you still in denial to yourself about it or something?”

“Hey, this is, this is not about me. What do you mean you’re a guy Sammy, I’ve been taking care of you since you were little, unless you got mojo’d by some witches or some freaky shit, I’m pretty sure you’re girl.”

“Just because I have a pussy doesn’t mean I’m a girl.”

“That kind of does.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Okay I’m not getting this. Sammy. Sam. Come on, Sam, look at me, what’s going on with you?”

“I just. I’m not a girl Dean. I don’t feel like a girl. I feel like I’ve been stuffed into the wrong body and it’s not really mine and it doesn’t work right and I just can’t be that anymore okay. I feel more comfortable like this.”

“What did you did with your tits?”

Sammy rolled her eyes and lifted up her t-shirt, showing off something tight wrapped around her chest.

“I’m wearing a binder.”

“Why?”

“Cause. I feel better this way, I look how I’m supposed to look.”

“How long have you felt like this?”

“Pretty much since forever.”

“What?”

“I don’t really know how to explain it. I just feel like things should be there that aren’t there and things shouldn’t be there that are there and it’s really uncomfortable and I’m sick of people teasing me for being a tom boy and thinking I need to act more like a girl or that I should be one way or another about things when I’m not. I feel more like myself like this ok, and I’m not sick Dean, no one did this to me, I was just born in the wrong body.”

“Sammy - “

"It’s Sam! I swear to god Dean if you’re just going to keep calling me Sammy or calling me a girl or your sister I am going to kick your ass. I’m a guy.”

“I uh - shit I need a drink man, this is weird.”

“I know you always thought I ran away cause of you Dean, that’s not it all, I mean, can you even imagine what Dad would do to me if….”

“Sam. Hey. Hey come on it’s okay don’t cry. Baby, it’s okay.”

“Don’t call me baby.”

“Stud. Whatever.”

“Jerk.”

“Bit - uh - asshole?”

“Yeah, ok. I know a place with good burgers around here, you hungry?”

-

The burgers were friggin’ delicious. They spent hours drinking refills of Coke and filling in all the empty pieces of the last few years they’d only had sporadic phone conversations. Sammy - Sam - didn’t really want to talk about the whole 'trans’ thing out in public. It was kind of a smart move though, taking Dean out where they couldn’t talk about it and just getting back in to the comfortable vibe they had. He just kind of processed it a little while he listened to Sam rattling on about courses.

Sam looked good. She looked great. He looked great. The surly depressed temperamental teenager that Dean used to know - while still temperamental - was a lot quicker to smile and easier to laugh. He looked happy. Dean didn’t really give two shits about what his sister - brother - was or wanted to be as long as he was taking care of himself.

Dean would much rather have Sam by his side, riding shotgun, covering his back. But yeah. Dad, dad would not take this well.

Dean couldn’t help staring at Sam’s dimples. Smooth cheeks, hair shining in the sun coming through the window. He moved different. Looked more natural though. It was weird. It was a lot to take in.

Dean was glad he stopped by unannounced.

-

They took a detour to a liquor store on the way back to Sam’s apartment and snagged a bottle of tequila. They pretty much sprawled over each other as they passed the half empty bottle back and forth giggling like fucking idiots. Dean had never really talked to anyone about liking dick as well as pussy. He didn’t think anyone even knew. And here was his …. brother…. being drunk and adorable and asking him about guys. Then talking about the guys he’d been with.

“Wait, wait Sam I’m, I don’t get it. Ok. So you were a girl. Or. Wait. A guy in a girl’s body. And you’re trying to be more a guy in a guys body. But like. You like guys? That doesn’t. But girls like guys so why didn’t you just stay a girl.”

“Dean you’re such an idiot. You. I mean. You like guys and you like girls. S'not like you need a pussy to like to guys or anything. Gender and orientshh, oriental, your, uh… see, what you are, and what you like, they’re different things.”

“Huh.”

Dean took the bottle from Sam’s unsteady hands, fell a little onto him, pushed up with a hand on his thigh. Sam’s face was so close, cheeks ruddy, eyes hooded.

“I like you Dean.”

“Wha - whassat.”

“I really like you. I missed you.”

“I fuckin, I missed y'too Sammy.”

“Sam.”

“Sammy. My Sammy. Baby.”

"M'not your baby.”

"Baby boy. Would you be my baby boy?”

“Deeeeee.”

“I always liked you Sammy, so fucking much, just cause, cause you were you.”

His sister’s - brother’s - Sam’s, lips were so fucking soft. Soft and warm and pliant as they moved against Dean’s. Tasting sharp like liquor, tongue gentle and slow as it pressed against him. Sam’s hand moving to cup the back of Dean’s neck, long slender fingers. A nip against his lip and Dean opened his eyes again. One hand still on Sam’s thigh. The other groping blindly to set the bottle down.

“Hey Dean.”

“Yeah Sam?”

“I got a dick.”

Dean’s hand slid up his brother’s thigh and pressed between his legs. It was so fucking hot there but he didn’t feel a dick, just the hardness of skinny Sammy’s pelvis.

“Where'st hidin’ at?”

“Under my bed. You wanna see it?”

“Fuck yeah baby boy, gonna show me it, show me your dick, gonna let me play with it?”

“Yeah De, sure.”

Sam’s big hands started tugging at his shirt, pulling it up and away. Dean coaxed Sam out of his but once he started trying to figure out what the fuck a binder is and how to take it off, Sam’s hand still him. Pushed down on the bed, Sam straddling his waist, Dean just stroked his hands up and down his brother’s thighs while Sam bent forward and kissed over a still red scar that ran across his chest from under the dip of his collar bone to his nipple.

“You got a new scar.”

“Got a few.”

Sam’s pretty hazel eyes looked up at him shining just a little and Dean shushed him, pushing fingers through Sam’s short messy hair.

“S'okay.”

“Okay.”

Sam kissed down his chest, mouth so light against his skin but somehow it burrowed down, down, making Dean tremble just a little when his brother’s hands started tugging open his jeans.

Sam was still skinny as hell, muscles well defined under taut skin that stretched too much over bone. She - he - was never really curvy. Flat from neck to navel with the tight fabric of the binder, Dean kind of wanted to play with his tits but he let off. He let Sam do whatever he wanted. Dean had wanted any kind of version of this for too long, just wanted to touch, wanted to see, wanted to see his Sammy again and wrap up around his sister - brother - and never let go. Not again.

So he lay back. A little confused still. Didn’t care. Long as Sam kept touching and licking. And kicking off his pants as he tugged Dean’s off. Sam stood at the foot of the bed, Dean’s pants tangled on the floor and his cock slapping up hard and happy against his stomach. Sam stood with his thighs squeezed together and they didn’t quite touch. His hair was light brown between his legs, where he put a hand, looking a little hunched on himself, a little uncertain.

Dean wondered if Sam did this with other people. If he told people he was a guy, and let them see him like this. He didn’t look too comfortable. Not even looking at Dean. Maybe he started without really thinking about this. Maybe cause Dean had already seen him in every state of dress and undress it was all right.

Dean just lay there.

“Hey. Sam. Baby boy. You lookin like you put on some more muscle.”

Sam’s lips quirked up in a bit of a smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You gonna show me that dick of yours or you gonna leave me hanging?”

Sam swatted his foot, and crouched to get something out from under the bed. He fussed with a tangled mess of straps and pulled it up his legs, settling a strap on around his waist and palming the beige plastic cock jutting out from it.

Sam kneeled on the edge of the bed, Dean spreading his thighs and slowly jacking his cock, one arm folded up underneath his head. Sam pushed a hand up his leg, scooted a little closer.

“You ever do this before?”

“What, had a dick up my ass. Yeah.”

Sam scooted closer, settling between his legs that never really closed anyway. Reaching up and putting his hand over Dean’s, Sam stroked his cock and moved his hand down lower, fingers brushing against his balls, rubbing that soft spot between his legs.

“Can I - uh ”

“What you want baby boy? You can have anythin’ you want.”

“I want to suck you, open you up.”

“Yeah Sam, come on.”

Dean didn’t really think of his brother as frail. Sam was a tough little shit and he fought dirty. But his bones really stuck out too much, knobs of his spine pushing up as he curled his back and got comfy between Dean’s legs. Dean watched over his bowed head as his body shifted and moved. His attention was brought fully back to Sam’s face when wet lips wrapped around his dick.

Muttering a curse and pushing his fingers through Sam’s hair, Dean raked his blunt nails up and down his own chest as Sam licked at him slowly, fingers brushing down further between his legs. Dean heard him rustling, Sam stilling and pulling away a bit, slick fingers coming back to his entrance and Sam was setting a lube bottle aside. Must of gotten out of the box. Dean didn’t really care. He’d let Sam fuck him spit wet. Just wanted to watch his brother with his pretty smooth skin flushed and his lips stretched tight around his dick and his short hair pushed back with Dean’s hand.

Dean gasped and pulled his legs even wider when a finger breached him. Two, pushing in, maybe a little hard, maybe a little insistent, maybe a little uncoordinated on liquor, but fucking shit the way Sam twisted them up inside him and took his cock down even further, Dean was moaning and short of breath and he didn’t think he’d ever seen something as good as Sam between his legs.

Lifting a leg up higher, pulling it up with a hand on the back of his thigh, Dean held himself open. Sam was gagging on his cock, pulling back, trying again, spit running messy. He pulled up as Dean started tugging on his hair, too close already, too close.

Sam smirked, that cocky up to no good fucking smirk Dean still knew whether he was a boy or a girl.

“You’re such a fucking slut Dean.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“You good?”

“Yeah baby come on, I’m gettin too close, want you in me.”

Sam pulled his fingers out, lingering at the rim, trailing up and cupping his balls.

“Can you flip over, on your knees?”

“Wanna watch you.”

“I uh - it’s easier for me.”

Dean nodded dumbly, he didn’t care what Sam meant by that, he just needed. Wanted to feel his brothers hips flush against him, feel Sam draped over his back, feel hands on his waist.

A little clumsily, one way then another as they tried to shift around each other, Dean got on his knees, back sloped down with his face resting against folded arms, ass high up in the air. Sam trailed his fingers lightly up Dean’s thighs, his ass, his back, palms spreading out and kneading, tracing the curve of his spine and feeling out the softness of his waist. Wet lips pressed to his back between his shoulder blades, up to the nape of his neck and Dean shivered, plastic sliding between his thighs.

“Love you so much Dean.”

“You’re my Sammy no matter what, you know that right?”

Maybe it was easier like this, talking in to the sheets, hoping his voice carried back to Sam, he wanted to say everything, couldn’t get it all out.

“Yeah. Yeah.”

Sam nudged his knees a little wider apart, the blunt head of his plastic dick at Dean’s hole nudging in. Dean took a deep stuttering breath, feeling it slide in shallow, feeling Sam rock back and forth with just the tip in. Fingers tracing around the rim, pulling him apart, Dean whimpering a little and trying to push back on it. Shove back and get it deeper, get it where he needed it, get it all the way in so he could feel the heat of Sam’s body against him.

Sam grabbed his hips and pulled, thrusting. The feel of straps against the back of his ass was new. But he could feel Sam’s skin, feel the shift of his bony hips, finding his place and his pace behind Dean. A little shuffling, bed dipping, a hand soothing up Dean’s back and pressing him down. Sam leaning over him, starting to fuck into him steady, deep, long drag of that cock in him filling and stretching.

Dean rolled his hips and ground back against his brother. Hands bracing on the bed, shoving back. Greedy mouth demanding more, more, come on baby boy, that all you got. Sam fucking into him vicious enough to steal his words, steal his breath. Already stole everything else Dean’s got. Nah. Nah he gave it. Give anything for his brother, to have his brother. Begging him closer, Sam draping over his back, long long body good for something, feel the muscles of his stomach clench as he works in to Dean, feel the plush of his lips against Dean’s neck.

Yeah. Yeah that’s it. Sam’s lips on him, breath hot making him quiver, hands slipping around his waist to grasp his cock, words encouraging, come on De, come on, fuck, I got you.

Spilling over his brother’s hand, white hot rush through his veins, ass clenching trying to pull it even deeper, fingers twisted up in the sheets and Sam’s arms around him.

-

Dean was fucked out and lazy and sprawled back on Sam’s bed. Sam came back from the bathroom with a clean cock, still pants-less, still wearing that binder. Dean wasn’t really sure how reciprocation was supposed to work in this situation. Man, how many times had he had wet dreams about eating his sister’s pussy. Wondered if Sam’d go for that.

When Sam was finished pushing the box back under the bed, Dean made a vague hand gesture over his junk not really sure what he was supposed to be signifying.

“You uh - you good Sam, what you want, can I do anything for you?”

Sam squeezed his legs together.

“No. I’m. It’s good Dean. Just - uh - can we cuddle?”

“You better get your fucking ass over here. Don’t fuck someone cross eyed and toss em out, that’s just cruel man.”

Sam smiled, fingers tugging at the edge of his binder.

“I should take this off.”

“I got no problems.”

“Just. I don’t. Don’t touch me there okay. Or between my legs.”

“I’ll be a gentleman I promise.”

Sam snorted. “Whatever. Couldn’t be if you tried.”

-

The street lights were bright coming through the bare window. Sam’s bed was pretty damn small for the two of them. There was just a thin sheet draped over them, Dean the small spoon, hands clasped over Sam’s where it was curled around his waist. He was sober by now. A little sore. None the worse for the wear. Happy. Sam was snoring lightly behind him, plastered against his back.

Dean wasn’t really sure where he wanted to go from here. Where he should go.

But something finally just felt right.


End file.
